


Thermal Equilibrium

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Banter, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28684200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: “You’d make a terrible thief anyways,” he remarked.“Oh? What makes you say that?” Ryou asked, raising an eyebrow.“You’re too damn polite, for one thing. Too passive. Too understanding,” Bakura accused. Ryou listened, neither confirming nor denying. “Even as I’m sitting here berating you, you’re not pulling away from me,”“Maybe right here is where I want to be,” Ryou replied.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Thermal Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> What it says on the label- pwp, done for the Yu-Gi-Oh! Realm Discord's first prompt: Cold. Enjoy!

“I will not ask you where you came from  
I will not ask and neither should you  
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips  
We should just kiss like real people do”

-Like Real People Do, Hozier

He was so incredibly cold.

Ryou wasn’t surprised- he was supposed to be dead, after all. Still, the coldness shocked him- in the days after Bakura as he called himself showed up at Ryou’s door, he never seemed to warm up. He didn’t complain about it, and he complained about a lot of things like the food Ryou kept (“What do you mean you’re vegetarian?”), Ryou’s apartment (“A drunkard could break into this place Landlord, honestly!”), and the clothes Bakura (stole) borrowed (“Bunny patterned pyjamas? Really?”). He didn’t complain about the cold though. Ryou knew Bakura was cold, he could see him shiver, curled up on the far side of his too hard sofa. 

“Would you like a blanket?” he asked finally. Best to get it out of the way.

“Why would I want a blanket?” Bakura asked with a scowl. Ryou furrowed his brows, and turned to look at him. He was pointedly not looking at Ryou, curled up on himself, shaking ever so slightly.

“Because you’re cold,” Ryou explained patiently.

“Why do you care, Landlord?” Bakura sneered. Ryou smiled like he always did when he was annoyed and briefly cast his eyes to the sky- maybe to ask for patience- before-

“Call me Ryou,” he ordered. Bakura blinked, a look of surprise crossing his face. 

“What did you just say?” he demanded.

“I said, call me Ryou.” Ryou repeated himself. Bakura snorted and something bubbled over inside of Ryou, like a pot of cereal left unattended. “Look, you show up on my doorstep, take my name, wear my clothes, eat my food, misuse my body for God knows how long, the very least you can do is call me by my name,” 

Bakura stood and stalked over to Ryou, looming over him. Ryou remained seated on his side of the sofa, a blanket spilling out of his lap that he was going to wrap Bakura in, whether the thief wanted it or not. 

“You let me do all those things,” Bakura stated, frowning. “Why are you smiling?”

“I’m angry,” Ryou explained. “And I did not let you possess my body, you just did,”

“I’ll concede that one,” Bakura shrugged. “But the other things-”

“What was I supposed to do, reject you? Leave you out in the world?” Ryou demanded, standing. He stood very close to Bakura, who did not back away.

“Yes, that was exactly what you were supposed to do,” Bakura snapped. 

“Sorry to disappoint, but you did choose to come back to me. Of course I’m going to keep you,” the words tumbled out of Ryou’s mouth before he could hold them back in- they were connected to black and sticky thoughts that raced through Ryou’s mind at obsessive rates, thoughts that weren’t nice and polite and friendly ones. As Ryou’s eyes traced along Bakura’s jaw, down his neck, across the broad expanse of his shoulders, he realized just how impolite and unfriendly those thoughts were. He snapped his eyes back to Bakura’s, his smile fading into a look Ryou hoped conveyed his steely determination. Oddly enough, Ryou felt more confident dealing with Bakura when he had a body, instead of being a disembodied voice in his own head. Perhaps it was because he was older. 

“You’re going to keep me?” Bakura asked, the ghost of a sneer in his tone

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Ryou countered, tearing his eyes away from Bakura to pick up the blanket and loop it around Bakura’s shoulders before he could protest. 

“What are you- It won’t do any good,” Bakura growled out, glaring at the blanket, and then at Ryou.

“Oh?” Ryou tipped his head to one side slightly, a bird like motion. He did not break eye contact, nor did he move away. He couldn’t really- the sofa was already at the back of his knees, while Bakura had free range of motion and simply chose to stand there, staring at the body he used to occupy. Ryou could feel the coldness roll off of him, even though he knew for a fact that the blanket he’d looped around Bakura was warm. He’d warmed it himself. Yet Bakura remained so cold... Ryou pursed his lips and reached out, pressing his warm hands to Bakura’s cold cheeks. Bakura flinched at the contact and tried to step back, but Ryou kept his hands on the skin firmly. “By God, you’re freezing,” 

“Comes with the territory,” Bakura explained without explaining, standing stock still. Finally, after a moment, he leaned into the touch. “You’re warm,” 

“I try to be,” Ryou beamed at Bakura. Bakura groaned, and didn’t move. “...Are you alright?” 

“Why do you ask?” Bakura asked, not moving from where his face was practically pressed into Ryou’s hands.

“You’re... well,” Ryou made a move to pull his hands away only to find Bakura’s icy hands manacled around his wrists insistently. They squeezed almost too tightly in a way that made Ryou’s pulse race.

“Don’t go,” Bakura rumbled “This is the first time I’ve felt warmth in a long time,” 

“You could have just asked for a blanket, you know,” Ryou pointed out. Bakura snorted.

“It’s not the blanket,” he said. “It’s you.” 

“Me?” Ryou repeated, confused.

“Yes, you.” Bakura hissed the phrase out as if it should be obvious. And perhaps, to Bakura, it was obvious. Ryou, on the other hand, was still confused. “The places you touch me are warm,” 

“Oh! Well that’s just thermodynamics,” Ryou replied simply.

“Thermo-what?” Bakura scowled.

“Thermodynamics. Did you pay attention to anything while you were occupying my body?” Ryou demanded.

“No, not really. None of it mattered. What is a thermodynamic?” Bakura demanded. “And what does it have to do with why you’re so hot?” 

“Well it’s- you see there’s this, it’s where... well, when molecules get excited they produce more heat because..” Ryou stammered through the words, his brain short circuiting at being called hot- surely the Spirit didn’t mean it like that, of course, but it was fun to imagine for just a moment that he was giving an impromptu lesson on physics to someone spooky and mysterious who was into him. 

“Because?” Bakura prompted, a slow smirk spreading on his face. Asshole knew what he was doing, of course he did.

“Because they’re excited!” Ryou replied. “And the energy gets concentrated in one place and it doesn’t want to be in one place so it naturally moves to places of low energy, places that are cold. You’re a heat sink,” 

“That is the mildest thing I’ve been called in my life,” Bakura pointed out. Ryou shrugged and moved his hands- still keeping contact with Bakura, but sliding them down to his jaw, watching as russet eyes fluttered closed for a moment. Under his fingers Ryou could feel Bakura’s pulse, a steady rhythm buried deep in Bakura’s new neck. Ryou could wrap his hands around that neck, but chose to simply let his hands lay there, warming Bakura’s skin like sunlight. 

“If you’re going to choke me, just do it,” Bakura remarked. 

“I don’t want to choke you,” Ryou assured him. “Or I would have,” 

“Would you have? You seem to have a hard time taking what you want from people” Bakura commented.

“You do that enough for me, thank you,” Ryou replied. Bakura shrugged.

“You’d make a terrible thief anyways,” he remarked.

“Oh? What makes you say that?” Ryou asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re too damn polite, for one thing. Too passive. Too understanding,” Bakura accused. Ryou listened, neither confirming nor denying. “Even as I’m sitting here berating you, you’re not pulling away from me,” 

“Maybe right here is where I want to be,” Ryou replied.

“Who would want that?” Bakura.

“Stop being self-deprecating, it’s a bad look on you,” Ryou chided. “Besides, it’s you who has his hands around my wrists,”

“You touched me first,” Bakura accused.

“You touched me back,” Ryou fired back, his smile returning. It wasn’t an angry smile though, which was nice. Bakura’s frown deepened. “What is it you want from me?” 

Instead of answering, or perhaps as an answer, Bakura took a half step forward so his knee bumped Ryou’s and he jolted. Ryou opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when Bakura leaned in and covered it with his own. His lips were cold and chapped, and Ryou made a mental note to get this man some chapstick before kissing him back. 

“Like kissing a corpse,” Ryou murmured, pulling away for a moment,” 

“You do that often?” Bakura quipped. Ryou snickered and shook his head, feeling his cheeks flush at what they’d just done. He wanted to do it again. “Gods, you’re blushing,” 

“Yeah? What of it?” Ryou demanded. “I’ll get you blushing too,”

“Is that a threat?” Bakura tipped his head, that wicked grin on his face again that made Ryou’s breath quicken.

“No, it’s a promise,” Ryou pulled Bakura close and kissed him properly, moving his hands away from Bakura’s neck and into his shaggy mane of hair. Even his head felt icy cold under Ryou’s touch, and Bakura groaned into his mouth as they kissed, pressing close. Bakura’s hands started at Ryou’s chest, then his sides, then his hips. Ryou felt hyper aware of where they were, and while they were cool to the touch they weren’t as icy as the rest of him. “You’re warming up,” 

“You’re very warm,” Bakura’s voice had a deep rumble that made the nerves in Ryou’s cheeks prickle pleasantly. “I’m going to steal your warmth,” 

“You don’t have to, you know. I’ll give it to you,” Ryou shook his head, giggles bubbling up from his stomach. He felt something electric in his veins, a kind of boldness that didn’t usually overtake him- Ryou was a mild mannered individual at the end of the day, so it took the electric giddiness that came with kisses to swing Bakura around like they were dancing and push him onto the couch.It helped that Bakura let him, watching Ryou with intense eyes that made his skin feel hot. He could feel his cheeks burning with it, so he took off his shirt and sat on Bakura’s lap, intending on kissing him again at very least. Bakura put a hand on Ryou’s chest and Ryou paused, not sure if he was being told to ease off, and then realized Bakura’s hand was directly over where the Ring usually sat.

“I hope you’re not expecting an apology,” Bakura remarked, each word enunciated sharply and soaked in an emotion Ryou couldn’t place. Ryou looked at Bakura seriously, and sighed.

“No. I’m expecting you to kiss me,” he told Bakura bluntly. His eyes widened a little in surprise, and Ryou smiled pleasantly at him. Any day he could startle his thief spirit was a good day. Ryou enjoyed the victory for a few seconds before Bakura trailed that cold hand of his down his chest and stomach, settling it at Ryou’s hip. The sensation made Ryou’s breath hitch in his throat. Now Bakura smiled, something dark and feral, before pulling Ryou closer for a bruisingly harsh kiss. Ryou melted into Bakura’s mouth, humming softly as he felt Bakura’s cold body press against his own, leeching his body heat as greedily as they kissed. Ryou’s skin burned as they kissed, as Bakura’s cold cold lips wandered down Ryou’s chin and jawline, sucking spots against his neck. Ryou whined low in his throat, squirming slightly in place and digging his fingers into Bakura’s hair mercilessly. Ryou tested the waters by tugging at Bakura’s hair properly, rewarded by a rumbling groan of approval. 

As fun as playing with Bakura’s hair was, Ryou removed his hands from it and started working on Bakura’s shirt. He wore one of Ryou’s button-downs, which was obnoxious but looked good on him. He was more muscular than Ryou was, which Ryou wasted no time in examining with warm fingers that passed over darker skin littered with scars from a previous life, scars Ryou traced over reverently. Bakura squirmed a bit and Ryou paused. 

“Does this make you uncomfortable?” he asked worriedly. Bakura furrowed his brows and Ryou looked at him expectantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Bakura sighed.

“I’m not used to this kind of attention,” he muttered, glancing aside. “Why, are you worried?”

“Of course! I don’t want to hurt you,” Ryou replied, startled.

“As if you could hurt me,” Bakura muttered. “Stop worrying about it and touch me already,” Ryou sighed and pushed Bakura’s shirt and blanket off of his shoulders, kissing his right shoulder softly and enjoying the little sigh Bakura gave him in response. The sweet moment lasted just for that- a moment, before Bakura grabbed Ryou’s hips and pulled him to straddle his own, grinding them together harshly. Ryou let out a startled gasp, that traitorous blush returning to his face at the actions and the hungry look of want in Bakura’s eyes Ryou rolled his hips against Bakura’s, savoring the hot feeling bubbling up at the bottom of his stomach. Ryou kissed Bakura gracelessly, their teeth clacking on accident but their lips moving, their hips moving, soft gasps escaping into the limited air between them.

“Hold still for a moment,” Ryou ordered.

“Why?” Bakura demanded, rolling his hips harshly against Ryou’s in a way that made his head spin for a moment.

“I want to take your pants off,” Ryou explained. “You’re too squirmy,” 

“You’re bossy,” Bakura complained, complying. Ryou grinned and ran his hands down Bakura’s chest, mimicking what Bakura had done to him earlier. Bakura stayed still, but Ryou could tell it was a bit of a struggle. With a single move Ryou unceremoniously yanked down Bakura’s trousers and took in the soft groan Bakura made as he ran his hands along the other man’s thighs. They were icy like the rest of him, but Ryou noticed that the skin he was touching was more flushed than the surrounding skin. “That’s not where I want you to be touching,” 

“I figured,” Ryou replied cheekily, scooting in to kiss Bakura again. As he felt Bakura’s hands on his lower back, investigating his own jeans, Ryou realized that Bakura’s hands were now warm. They felt nice on his skin. They felt even nicer over his ass as Bakura slowly, painfully slowly, pulled down Ryou’s jeans, running his fingers curiously along the red welts the seams left on Ryou’s skin while Ryou kicked them off the rest of the way. Bakura took a moment to look at Ryou with a sharp and appraising eye that made Ryou’s blush return again as he knelt on the sofa, straddling Bakura and mentally calculating how well the curtains on the window behind the sofa would cover them in case any neighbors got nosy. Then Bakura grabbed Ryou’s cock with a surprisingly calloused hand and knocked all those frivolous thoughts out of Ryou’s head, stealing the breath from his lungs as he keened and swayed in place.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Bakura rumbled, pumping his cock and Ryou’s in the same hand, setting a rough pace. Breathless, Ryou rocked into Bakura’s hand, grabbing on to the thief’s shoulders and squeezing to ground himself. He pulled one hand away and licked his palm slowly, making a show of it- judging by the look on Bakura’s face he enjoyed it- and joined his hand with Bakura’s. It took them a few strokes to develop a rhythm, and Ryou cursed himself for not having lube on hand. The friction bordered between painful and pleasurable and Ryou found himself enjoying it more than he originally thought he would. Bakura grunted out something in a language Ryou didn’t know before he came, which wasn’t a lot of warning but more than Ryou gave Bakura as he finished not too long after. 

“Oh,” Ryou murmured, resting his forehead on Bakura’s shoulder, now pleasantly warm. He wanted to run his hands all over Bakura to make sure he was properly warm, but Ryou’s hands were messy so that was a no-go. 

“That’s all you have to say?” Bakura asked.

“Um, give me a moment. Can’t think,” Ryou replied, nosing along Bakura’s skin and inhaling his scent- mostly sweat, something heady and warm smelling. 

“Fuck. I can’t either,” Bakura muttered. “I’m warm now though,”

“Excellent,” Ryou smiled against Bakura’s skin, kissing his pulse point before shivering as the air conditioning came on. “Mmm we should clean up.” 

“Ugh,” Bakura groaned. “I have to get up then,” 

“I guess so,” Ryou sighed. “We could take a shower together though. It would be efficient,” 

“In your tiny ass shower?” Bakura snorted. “Right,” 

“So it’ll be a little cramped. I don’t mind,” Ryou pulled back and glanced up at Bakura, who huffed and glanced away. 

“What evils have I awakened?” he asked rhetorically. Ryou laughed, his laughter turning into surprised giggles as Bakura stood and hoisted Ryou up with him, carrying him through the living room proudly. “I suppose this is convenient enough- you can show me how the blasted shower works,” 

“You have to put me down first,” Ryou pointed out.

“When did you become such a smartass?” Bakura demanded, setting Ryou down gently. Ryou promptly got the shower started, setting the water as hot as possible before pulling Bakura in with him. Bakura hissed at the sudden change in temperature and then stared at Ryou in shock.

“What is it?” Ryou asked.

“I can feel the water,” Bakura murmured, almost reverently.

“You couldn't before?” Ryou tipped his head.

“I could feel sensations but not temperature. Not until you touched me,” Bakura explained, standing directly under the spray (and hogging it, really). Ryou grabbed his loofah and soaped it up, looking Bakura over seriously.

“Any spots I missed?” he asked. Bakura grinned wolfishly.

“I can think of a few,”


End file.
